The Chronicles of Red and Ginger
by fuwacchi
Summary: A collection of unrelated AkaFuri drabbles and ficlets. Chapter 11: Kouki's coughing out blood – and Akashi doesn't know what to do.
1. beautiful

**disclaimer:** i don't own _kuroko no basuke_, nor any of the characters used in this work.

originally posted as a submission to BPS' otp battle on tumblr.

* * *

**beautiful;**  
akashi meets a peculiar creature in the woods one day.

* * *

His foot had just touched the ground when he heard it. It was soft, barely reaching his ears, and for a moment Akashi thought he had imagined it. The boy, hardly a man, stood absolutely still as the wind picked up. His red hair gently fluttered and with eyes of ruby and gold he watched as the leaves spiralled into the clear blue sky. Straining his ears through the breeze, Akashi placed all his concentration on his surroundings, carefully picking up the sounds of squirrels a few metres away from him; the sounds of birds chirping; the rustling of trees; the barely concealed gushing of water in the distance; and—was that a song?

Curiosity getting the better of him, Akashi didn't hesitate to head in the direction of the voice, carefully manoeuvring through the bushes and trees, after turning back and bowing once towards the shrine above the hundreds of cobblestone steps. As he ventured further into the forest, the singing voice grew more distinct, though Akashi was still unable to make out the lyrics, and the sound of running water got louder. With each step, Akashi had to strain his heterochromatic eyes to make out his footing. The further he went into the forest, the larger the shadows the trees cast.

Briefly, the thought of turning back flitted about in his mind—he was barely able to see in front of him at that point—but he immediately dismissed the idea. Akashi was never one to give up after he'd made a decision, especially not for a reason such as being unable to see before him. He could still barely make out the outlines of trees and bushes ahead of him, and with a newfound resolve he firmly continued forward.

When he could clearly hear the song being sung, Akashi unknowingly fastened his pace, eager to encounter another man within the eerily dark woods. The song, he noted, was about humans being blessed by God and watched over by angels. Akashi rolled his eyes. He was not religious and, while he respected those who had their values and beliefs, he simply did not believe in something he could not see. If anything, he only followed the Japanese customs of visiting temples and shrines out of tradition, but not because he believed in God.

Akashi believed in free will and results. He made the decisions which led him to be who he was, and where he was today. _Definitely not because of the existence of an uncertain being such as God_, he thought, peeved.

Shaking his head, he focused on the voice filling the forest. It was definitely a man's voice, rather low but capable of reaching a higher pitch at certain notes. His singing definitely didn't sound bad on the ears, but it wasn't anything great either. If Akashi had to say, it sounded average; nothing praise-worthy, but something about it compelled him to continue trudging through the woods.

When he finally saw a small filter of light Akashi rushed towards it, only coming to a pause in his steps, blinded by the onslaught of brightness, when he reached a clearing. Blinking blearily, Akashi waited for his eyes to adjust—and when it did, his breath caught in his throat.

There was a miniature waterfall, maybe about four to six metres high, which flowed into a shallow pool before entering the downstream river. The translucent liquid in the pseudo-lake glittered in the sunlight, and reflected a yellow glow onto the man sitting on a broken, gigantic tree trunk that slightly extended over the pool. The man had his back turned towards the redhead, but Akashi could make out a carefree smile on the brunet's face when he shifted his position on the log. What caught Akashi's attention most, however, were the pure white feathers that protruded out of the man's back.

As the man continued to sing, unaware of Akashi's presence, the redhead noted the swarm of animals that surrounded the brunet despite his ordinary voice. All of them watched the—dare he say it?—angel from a distance by the trees, unwilling to step out from the shadows to bask in the sunlight and, in turn, the ethereal being's warmth. Akashi could relate, somewhat, as he stood rooted in his spot, watching the brunet sing, as a certain warmth filled his chest. When the brunet stuttered over a note, his eyebrows would furrow and the corner of his lips would downturn—but only for a moment, before he was singing again, his slight mishap not pulling him down. It was endearing, in a way, and Akashi couldn't help but be mesmerised by the angel who was singing so carefreely, bounded by nothing.

The moment was all too short, however.

A mere snap of a branch had the animals bouncing away in a hurry, and the angel immediately whipped his head to the source of the sound before coming into contact with ruby and gold. The redhead stared back into those hazel brown eyes filled with apprehension.

Akashi mentally cursed his carelessness. He was entranced, drawn in by the brunet, and he hadn't even known when he'd taken that step—but he did, and now the brunet had stood up on the trunk, his legs bent and wings ready for takeoff. Akashi didn't even have the chance to speak, his arm merely extended to reach out towards the angel, before he was pushed back by a strong gust of wind. In reflex, his arms immediately went up to protect his face and his feet planted itself firmly into the soil.

When the gust finally died down, Akashi gingerly retracted his arms. The clearing was empty; no birds, no animals, and definitely no angel in sight. He looked up into the clear skies and noted nothing but the clouds lazily floating by. His only companion was the sound of the waterfall pounding heavily into the pool of water below it.

He sighed, an immense sense of loss filling him at that moment.

From then on, Akashi would visit the same clearing in the middle of nowhere within that forest. He got lost his first time returning back; after all, Akashi had merely followed the angel's voice and had not taken note of where he had came from. After a few trips back and forth, though, he had memorised the route to the clearing.

However, not once had he encountered the angel again.

Until eight years later.

The brunet hadn't changed, not at all. He remained the same as he did many years ago when Akashi had first saw him, as if he hadn't aged a single year. Perhaps that was the case for ethereal beings, but that was something Akashi would ponder about at a later time.

This time, as the brunet sang the same song, positioned on the same broken tree trunk, Akashi carefully approached from behind, making certain not to step on another tree branch laying carelessly on the ground. When he was finally directly behind the brunet, it was already too late.

The angel turned when he noticed the shadow cast above him, only to squeak in surprise when a pair of hands grabbed his shoulders. He struggled against his attacker for a moment, only coming to a standstill when his supposed attacker loosened his hold and slid his hands down the brunet's arms before gently cupping his own pair of hands, as if the angel was a precious but fragile gem.

He looked up, and hazel brown eyes widened when they were met with the same ruby and gold from eight years ago. The boy he had met had grown into a fine young man, his baby fat was all gone, replaced by a sharp, angular face; his heterochromatic eyes had narrowed but were sharper than ever; and the bangs that used to cover those jewels were cut short.

Gulping, the angel stepped back, intending to get away from the other again. It did no good whenever angels came into direct contact with humans. Before he could slide his hands out of the other's grasp, however, a smooth, velvety voice distracted him.

"You're beautiful."

Head snapping back up, the brunet was caught off guard by the small smile on the redhead's face. More than that, however, he was mesmerised by the love overflowing in those jewels of ruby and gold. His breath caught in his throat, and the angel was unable to form a response. He simply did not understand how such an emotion could be directed towards him, much less from a stranger who had only met him once—twice, if he counted the current encounter.

But he need not have said anything.

Because before he could have processed a proper thought, a hand made its way through his locks of brown tresses and stroked them tenderly.

Akashi watched as the angel's face reddened in colour, nearly matching the shade of his vibrant red hair, and he chuckled in amusement. His eyes lingered on the other's lips for a moment, and Akashi was so very tempted to just lean in and have a taste of them—but he held back. It was much too soon for any action to have been taken, he decided, noting the slight apprehension and intimidation still present within those hazel brown eyes.

Together, they sat on the log and chatted away. Akashi made sure not to ask about anything too personal, seeing that Kouki—the angel's name, Akashi learnt—had not completely warmed up to him.

("Will you sing for me, Kouki?" A shy nod.)

But that was okay. He'd wait patiently for the other.

("Will you sing for me, Kouki?")

(A beaming smile. "Of course, Seijuurou.")

Akashi had time to spare anyway.

* * *

**/END.**

* * *

24th July 2014


	2. clear

**disclaimer:** i don't own _kuroko no basuke,_ nor any of the characters used in this work.

originally posted as a submission to BPS' otp battle on tumblr.

* * *

**clear;**  
no matter how strongly you feel in your heart, it's meaningless if you don't convey them.

* * *

Furihata is a bad liar, Akashi learns over time. Whenever he lies, his expression tells Akashi all he needs to know: his eyes will dart to the side or he'll stare at his feet like it's the most interesting thing in the world, obviously in an attempt to avoid any form of eye-contact, and he'd chew on his lower lip in apparent nervousness. Sometimes Akashi lets it go, other times he confronts Furihata about it. Akashi can differentiate between the brunet's many lies; he won't question a lie told to surprise him, merely following along with Furihata (and he wouldn't admit it aloud but the surprises often left him feeling butterflies in his stomach), but Akashi absolutely _loathes_ it when his lover lies to hide his pain and/or worries.

His lover, Akashi deduces, is like an open-book. He doesn't even have to try to decipher the brunet's moods as Furihata wears his feelings on his sleeves. It's evident in the miniscule movements, from the way the corner of his lips twitches in an attempt to hide his amusement to the way a grin stretches widely across his face when he's overwhelmed with joy, and his eyes—oh God, his eyes.

They say the eyes are the window to one's soul. Akashi can't agree more.

Those hazel brown eyes leave nothing unsaid; they're extremely transparent when it comes to conveying their owner's feelings. Akashi doesn't think the brunet even needs words to express his thoughts.

"I know you know I love you," Furihata says, blinkingly confusedly at the redhead's sudden question. "But sometimes no matter how strongly you feel in your heart, it's meaningless if you don't convey them."

Akashi doesn't have long to ponder over his words as Furihata flashes him a breathtaking smile that leaves his heart racing faster and thumping louder than ever.

"Besides," he continues, "these feelings are too overwhelming I can't _not_ convey them."

As much as Furihata is transparent to Akashi, the brunet too believes he can read his lover like an open-book. It's true he struggles to understand what goes through Akashi's mind, and he's given up trying in all honesty, but Furihata understands how meaningful each and every one of Akashi's actions are.

"I love you," Furihata confesses with a gentle smile, like he does every other night when they're snuggled together in bed.

And when Akashi leans in and kisses him tenderly on the lips, the brunet knows precisely what he means. Furihata doesn't need reassurances in the form of fancy words; after all, for Akashi Seijuurou, actions speak louder.

As such, Akashi's next action catches him off-guard.

"I love you too," he replies, for the first time.

Because sometimes it's necessary to convey these feelings out loud, Akashi realises with a start as he watches Furihata gape stupidly before turning a deep scarlet and hiding his face behind his hands. It takes a while to pry the fingers away, but once he does Akashi's eyes widen slightly at the sight of tears flowing freely down the brunet's cheeks—yet, there's a broad smile plastered there, threatening to split his face in half.

Maybe, Akashi thinks as he affectionately wipes away the tears, he should do this more often.

* * *

**/END.**

* * *

31st July 2014


	3. rain

**disclaimer:** i don't own _kuroko no basuke,_ nor any of the characters used in this work.

written for breebreebreakdance from tumblr.

* * *

**rain;**  
akashi and furihata's first meeting is not at the winter cup.

* * *

Contrary to what others thought, the first time Akashi met Furihata Kouki was not the gathering before the Winter Cup. Furihata probably did not recall their first meeting, but Akashi definitely did.

It was during the summer of his second year in Teikou (when everything had still been fine; Aomine hadn't bloomed yet and everyone was still strongly bonded together, and most importantly Akashi had still enjoyed basketball). On his way back home from a late session of club practice, it had began to rain heavily. Startled by the sudden downpour, Akashi rushed to a nearby convenience store and took shelter there, intent on waiting for the rain to calm down.

When it showed no sign of stopping, Akashi had reluctantly resigned himself to rushing back home through the rain. He really didn't want to call his chauffeur to pick him up, not after having decided to live as an ordinary boy at the very least during school hours. Stepping out of the convenience store, Akashi observed as the rain hit the asphalt at a rhythmic pace. He resisted a shudder. Despite the stray, cool droplets hitting his skin, the summer heat did nothing to help the humidity.

He was about to step into the rain when the doors of the convenience store slid open again. Akashi moved to the side so as to not block the entrance, allowing a brunet boy about his height to come through. From his peripheral, Akashi watched as the brunet opened his umbrella and walked away. To his surprise, however, the boy paused on his spot for a moment before turning back around and approaching him.

"Um, excuse me," the brunet started, a tint of nervousness in his words. "Do you perhaps not have an umbrella?"

Akashi stared for a second before giving a quick nod in confirmation.

The boy rummaged through his backpack as he spoke. "O-oh, if that's the case, I have a spare if you'd like?" He held out a fold-up umbrella and flashed a brief smile.

Maybe it was something about the sincerity of that smile, or maybe he just didn't want to get wet - whatever the case, Akashi reached out his hand and grabbed onto that umbrella, thanking the other with a nod of his head. The brunet smiled again before turning and walking away, and Akashi watched him go.

When he was finally out of sight, Akashi stared at the umbrella in his hands. He was about to open it when his eyes caught sight of black ink on the wooden handle.

"Furihata Kouki..." he slowly read out, his thumb gently tracing over the characters.

With the black umbrella over his head, a safe shelter from the harsh downpour, Akashi stepped into the rain.

Perhaps it was because of this kindness, or maybe his strong sense of responsibility to return favours, but Akashi found himself, three years later in his second year of high school, approaching the same brunet who currently stood under a tree, pitifully trying to escape from the downpour and failing miserably.

"Furihata Kouki," Akashi called out, a familiar black umbrella in his hand. Furihata perked at his name, turning to look at the redhead.

"I believe I owe you a favour."

He extended a hand.

Confused, but anything to get out of the rain, Furihata reached out and accepted that open palm - and in that cold, nothing was warmer than the hand in his.

* * *

**/END.**

* * *

21st August 2014


	4. hands

**disclaimer:** i don't own _kuroko no basuke_, nor any of the characters used in this work.

written for yuka-liptus from tumblr. happy belated birthday!

* * *

**hands;**  
akashi has an unconscious habit.

* * *

Akashi had a habit of fidgeting with his hair, Furihata realised.

Furihata didn't believe the man himself was aware of it (which made it all the more amusing), but when he was lying on Akashi's lap after an exhausting day, or when he leant back against the frame of their bed playing his console while Akashi lied down on the bed reading a book, stray fingers would find themselves tangled in brown locks. He'd sneak a peek at the redhead from the corner of his eye, but Akashi always looked so engrossed in whatever he was doing, unaware of his actions.

_Oh, but there was more_, Furihata thought as he fought back a grin. It didn't just happen when they were idle, but more often than not this habit of Akashi's occurred mostly when the man himself was stressed. The redhead would unconsciously run his hand through brunette tresses as he pondered solutions to problems - obstacles that the Akashi Corporation must have been facing at the time, Furihata guessed - and it always delighted him to see Akashi's shoulders visibly relaxing from merely touching his hair. Perhaps it was his own ego speaking, but Furihata honestly felt proud to know he had such an effect on _the Akashi Seijuurou_.

"What are you grinning about?" a velvety voice cut through his thoughts. Ah, so he ended up grinning despite his efforts after all, Furihata thought bemusedly.

Turning towards the direction of the voice, mentally noting his tresses sliding through the gaps between fingers tangled in his hair, honey brown came into contact with ruby red. Unabashedly laughing out loud, Furihata replied in a sing-song voice, "Oh nothing."

From the way Akashi raised one of his brows, he knew the brunet was hiding something but didn't push - except the slight protrusion of his lips told Furihata all he needed to know: Akashi was sulking from not knowing something. Or more specifically, from the fact that his lover was hiding something from him.

Furihata bit on his lower lip, resisting the urge to laugh at the adorable sight; it would merely rouse Akashi further if he did. Instead, he saved his game and placed the console on the nightstand before clambering onto the bed. Akashi looked at Furihata in surprise when the brunet picked up his hand - the hand that was playing with his hair, Furihata made certain - and kissed each knuckle, not breaking contact from those red jewels all the while.

And when Akashi let out a shaky breath, choosing to pull him closer instead to place slow, sensual kisses on his lips, Furihata smiled into the kiss, knowing the other had completely forgotten about the matter.

This was a secret for himself, after all. And Furihata wasn't willing to share.

Besides, he quite liked seeing a sulking Akashi.

* * *

**/END.**

* * *

16th October 2014


	5. king

**disclaimer:** i don't own _kuroko no basuke_, nor any of the characters used in this work.

belated birthday fic for akashi.

* * *

**king;**  
because akashi seijuurou had to be the king of _something_, if not basketball.

* * *

That year, Rakuzan had clashed with Seirin earlier on in the Winter Cup.

Unlike the previous year, both schools were within the same block and they had faced off in their third round. It was a fierce battle, much like it was last year, but with the disappearance of Mayuzumi Seirin was evidently better off. Kiyoshi had came back from America right before their second round, his knee completely healed and fully geared to play. He remained as airheaded as he had the year before, but his eyes shone with determine and the strong urge to play.

Naturally, Rakuzan lost.

They had put on a fierce battle, but the gap Mayuzumi left was simply too large. It wasn't that Rakuzan lacked any above average players - they had plenty of those to spare - but despite the invisible senior's rather average abilities, his special trait had been of great assistance to their overall team play. No other player could have filled his place.

Seirin fought and fought, and proceeded to the finals where they were matched up against Shuutoku.

They lost by a measly three points.

Akashi could clearly remember Shuutoku's roar of ecstacy as the Kings reclaimed their throne. He remembered Seirin shedding tears non-stop, just like Mibuchi and Hayama did when they lost against Seirin (both years), and felt a small pang inside his chest. Akashi hadn't shed any tears when they had lost that year, but he had felt hollow and numb when the whistle had sounded, bringing with it the end of the game.

It was frustrating. He had always wanted something better than himself. Something that would have given him a challenge after having had spent his whole life doing nothing but winning, claiming victory after victory.

Yet when victory alluded him, he could do nothing but desperately crave for it. (And if he noticed the bitterness, perhaps even jealousy, that swelled in his chest, he ignored it.)

He wanted to be the best.

.

.

.

Spring came. Akashi met up with Furihata once more before they both had to roll over to their third year, in which the chances of them being able to see each other would significantly decrease as they both concentrated on exams. They visited a park. Furihata said they could visit the amusement park another time, claiming that they should just relax before they were swamped with workload.

Akashi honestly didn't remember much of what they had done there, despite having spent more than an hour at the park. All he could remember was thinking about basketball, and more basketball. (Furihata called him a basketball idiot once, but Akashi refused to be put on the same level as those idiotic Lights.) So lost in thought he was, thinking of new strategies Rakuzan could possibly use and how he could improve their training menu to finally claim the trophy that year, Akashi had completely forgotten about Furihata's presence.

It wasn't until the sun was setting and the skies were already dyed a deep mix between red and orange that Akashi snapped out of his thoughts, immediately alarmed when he didn't see the brunet anywhere close by. Furihata would never leave without notifying him, he knew, so Akashi texted him demanding his whereabouts.

Minutes passed by, but Akashi received no reply. He was beginning to worry at that point, afraid of the possibility that Furihata was angry at being neglected, despite his mind screaming at him that _Kouki isn't like that_. Ready to call him instead, Akashi was relieved when his phone chimed, notifying him of a message from Furihata.

_Look behind you_, it read, just as a shadow loomed over him. Akashi swirled around with a start, briefly blinded by the sun above before the brunet came closer, blocking the glaring rays, and placed something on his head. Slowly reaching a hand up to inspect the matter, he came into contact with something soft and smooth, the pads of his fingers sliding against it easily.

He pulled it down, ruby orbs examining the array of colours with confusion. "A flower crown...?"

"Yeah!" Furihata nodded with a wide grin, crouching down to Akashi's level. "That little girl over there," he motioned towards the direction of a young girl about to leave the park with her mother, "taught me how to make it."

A sudden rush of guilt overwhelmed him at that moment, causing something to lodge against his throat and making it harder to breath. "I apologise. I did not mean to neglect you," Akashi said, not quite sure whether to elaborate or not.

He didn't need to, though.

"It's okay, you were thinking about something important, right?"

It always amazed him how well Furihata had come to understand him. Reluctantly, Akashi nodded. Searching his lover's face, he was relieved to see that the brunet truly held nothing against him for it.

"If you don't mind me asking," Furihata started, choosing his words carefully, "what were you thinking about?"

At the question, Akashi hesitated, unsure how to answer before deciding to tell him the briefest of the matter. "About the training menu for the new starters. Mibuchi-san and the others will be graduating in two weeks." Their absence would definitely leave a huge impact on their club.

Furihata didn't say anything in reply, choosing to stare intensely at the other instead. Despite himself, Akashi felt a little uncomfortable under his gaze but managed to not show any sign of it. He had no idea what the other saw, but Furihata seemed to be satisfied as he nodded his head, a spark of determination and understanding flittering across his hazel eyes.

The next thing Akashi knew, a hand was placed on his head and was ruffling his nest of red locks gently. A red eyebrow raised up, silently questioning the treatment he was being exposed to, but his lover only smiled gently in reply.

"You're always working so hard, Sei." His voice was so tender, and for a moment the image of a woman with long, red locks fluttering behind her in the wind came to mind. Her smile was just as soft and kind as her voice, praising him for his achievements - but just as quickly as it came, the memory was gone as Furihata continued, "It's our day off today, and yet you're still thinking about work."

Akashi nearly let another apology slip pass his lips at that, but refrained from doing so when he saw that the other held no grudges for it, so he set his lips into a thin line instead. A moment passed with the two in silence before he finally reached up to the hand still nestled in his tresses and lifted it off, choosing to hold onto it instead of letting go. Furihata didn't seem to have any qualms about it, judging from how he sat down on the grass together with him before he laced their fingers together, running the pad of this thumb against the back of Akashi's palm. He smiled as the redhead began to relax, the tension in the other's shoulders gradually relaxing and his face softening.

"You know, Seijuurou," Furihata said, breaking the silence and watching the other from the corner of his eye. "You don't always have to be the best."

"But I want to." The words slipped out before he could stop himself. Akashi turned away at his blunder, his eyebrows furrowed and lips turned downwards marginally; he didn't want Furihata to see his current expression.

"Hmm," Furihata hummed. Something about the curiosity in the other's tone made Akashi turn back to him, but his lover wasn't looking at him. Instead, his eyes were gazing into the distance, watching the setting sun bask their surroundings in its glow. In that moment, Furihata's tresses looked more orange than brown, his skin more golden than tan, and Akashi was unable to pull his eyes away from the striking image - but he didn't want to anyway.

"I think you're already the best though?"

His fingers twitched against their joined hands. He may have been the best in everything - but not in basketball. His loss at the Winter Cup both years proved that.

Furihata seemed to understand his sentiments, those hazel eyes turning away from the beautiful scene and focusing solely on him instead. Disconnecting their hands, he stood up and brushed himself off of any grass clinging onto him. Akashi didn't comment on the loss of warmth despite his dissatisfaction - but he never really had the time to voice it out anyway, for Furihata was reaching out and plucking the flower crown from his hand.

Akashi intently watched the other's movements, curious to what his lover had planned. "Sei," the brunet called, and Akashi loved how the syllable rolled off the other's tongue. Every time Furihata called his name, it felt like it contained all his love and the feeling it gave Akashi made him feel all fuzzy inside.

"You may not be the king in basketball," Furihata continued, brushing red bangs away from ruby jewels. He loved those eyes; always so calculating and seeing all, but always so warm when gazing at him. Placing the crown on his beloved's head, the brunet then leaned down and placed a chaste kiss on the other's forehead before moving down and whispering against his lips, "But you're the king of my heart."

Not even a second after finishing his claim, he decreased their distance, his lips coming into contact with Akashi's and brushing against it a few times. They lingered there for a while before finally pulling away. Akashi's breath caught in his throat at the smile Furihata directed at him, so wide and threatening to split his face into two, and those eyes sparkling so full of pride and love for him.

Akashi felt himself falling for Furihata Kouki all over again.

Resting his head against the other's shoulder, the redhead closed his eyes and released a sigh. Stray fingers came up to run through his red locks and he snuggled closer to the curve of his lover's neck. The two remained in that position for a while until Akashi finally pulled away, his face composed and showing nothing of his earlier hesitance and worries.

Akashi kissed him once more before saying, "Kouki says very embarrassing things." He delighted in the deep flush that stained his lover's cheeks, laughing when Furihata shouted his response.

"I don't want to hear that from you of all people!"

Pulling Furihata up with him, he led them both out of the park. "Shall we have dinner at Maji Burger?" The sun had almost completely set, the sky turned into different shades of purple and blue. While Akashi wasn't too fond of the fast food chain, he knew Furihata was most comfortable there (or at any other casual restaurants) when eating out. Furihata nodded, his eyes brightening at the prospect of food. Akashi had to refrain from pulling the other into another kiss.

They reached Maji Burger about twenty minutes later. Despite the stares he received during their short walk, Akashi couldn't bring himself to take off the flower crown adorning his mane. And when Furihata approached the counter to place their orders, Akashi stood behind him and watched his beloved with a straight face, but his eyes held endearment and love.

After all, Akashi Seijuurou had to be king of _something_ \- and if he couldn't be the emperor on the court, then he'd just have to settle with being the _King of Kouki's heart_. Ultimately, Akashi thought as he fondly watched Furihata eat, nothing was more important than that.

* * *

**/END.**

* * *

23rd December 2014


	6. parting

**disclaimer:** i don't own _kuroko no basuke_, nor any of the characters used in this work.

for inachuu on tumblr.

* * *

**parting;  
**there are no goodbyes - and definitely no happy endings.

* * *

Akashi wakes up at the ungodly hours of the morning shivering slightly. A hand reaches out, patting the spot next to him and feeling cold emptiness instead of what was once warm. Ruby eyes crack open in alert, noting that it was still dark out, the only source of light being the soft sliver of moonlight infiltrating past his deep red curtains.

He turns to the window, then, entranced by the way the moon wrapped his lover in its gentle embrace. Furihata almost looks ethereal as he leans against the window sill, distantly staring at whatever laid on the other side of the plane. His skin is paler under the night sky and his eyes almost translucent. Akashi's breath catches in his throat at the tears slowly trickling down the brunet's cheeks; they sparkle innocently under the light.

At the sound of rustling sheets, Furihata turns towards him and graces him with a small smile despite the liquid running down his face. Akashi can't decide what he likes more, his smiles or his tear-streaked face; Furihata looks beautiful even when crying, he distractedly thinks.

Getting out of his warm heaven, Akashi languidly approaches his lover. (It is far too cold. How long had Furihata been out of bed in nothing but his birthday suit?) He stops short and chooses to lean on the other side of the window sill instead, looking out at the large expanse of land that belonged to the Akashi family.

They share no words, but it isn't really necessary.

From his peripheral, he notices Furihata tremble slightly. Without a moment's pause, he extends his hand palm up to the other. "Come," he says.

Furihata grabs onto it with no hesitance. Akashi pulls them both to bed. Locked within each other's embrace, the two lay there as the time continued to tick.

"It's going to be okay," Akashi says softly - but they both know it's a lie. Furihata doesn't say anything in reply, merely burying his nose deeper into the curve of Akashi's neck.

When morning comes, Furihata is nowhere to be found. It doesn't hinder Akashi; instead, he goes about the morning as he usually does before preparing for the upcoming party that night.

He sees his lover—_ex-lover_, his mind traitorously reminds him—standing next to Kuroko. Akashi makes no move to approach him, neither does Furihata. The night proceeds monotonously with Akashi and his fiancée thanking the many guests who came for their engagement party.

When he notes the nest of brown tresses making its way towards him, Akashi steels his resolves and greets, "Kuroko, Furihata, I'm glad you could make it. Thank you for coming." Well-practiced, refined pleasantries, topped with a business-like smile.

Kuroko nods in greeting. "Congratulations on your engagement." From his side, Furihata mimics Kuroko and wishes Akashi and his fiancée a happy and long life together. Akashi bites on the inside of his cheek to refrain from saying anything unnecessary. Refrain from telling Furihata that he wanted to spend a happy and long life with _him_, not the unknown woman beside him.

But life isn't simple like that.

They exchange a few more words before parting ways as Akashi turns towards another group of guests coming towards him, obviously to offer more congratulatory greetings that he cared nothing for. In the middle of their conversation, Akashi sees Furihata marching towards the exit.

Akashi makes no move to pursue him.

There are no goodbyes - and definitely no happy endings.

Life goes on.

* * *

**/END.**

* * *

16th February 2015


	7. title

**disclaimer:** i don't own _kuroko no basuke_, nor any of the characters used in this work.

written for furihatakouki on tumblr for the akafuri secret santa 2014 event.

* * *

**title;**  
it wasn't that they were hiding their relationship. they just hadn't thought it necessary to spill it out.

* * *

They had never lied about their relationship, but they never told the truth either. If they weren't asked about it, then they didn't say. At the same time, when they _were_ asked about it, more often than not they skirted around the matter. It wasn't that they were ashamed of being homosexual (or of each other), no. Seijuurou was perfectly fine with being open about their relationship. Kouki, however, was a different story. Rather than being ashamed, though, the brunet was simply afraid of his friends and family's reaction to his coming out.

As time passed, Kouki gradually warmed up to the idea and first told his close friends from his high school days and his elder brother. Kouki's brother was quickest to accept this new revelation than anyone else had, and Seijuurou was more thankful towards him for that than anyone would have known. He didn't particularly care for the opinions of those unimportant to him, but the knowledge of his acceptance had lifted a heavy burden off Kouki's shoulders and made him more relaxed than he'd been in ages - and that, Seijuurou was eternally grateful for.

Kouki's friends from the Seirin Basketball Club were more accepting than anything, even if they were a bit uncomfortable at first but slowly grew accustomed to their public display of affections. Seijuurou's high school friends didn't mind all too much in all honesty, as most of them had already been used to Reo's attitude and behaviour. They were shocked at first that their now-ex-Captain swung that way, but overall were okay with it; it wasn't that they were supportive, but each of them minded their own businesses and didn't push into each other's private lives. Well, with the exception of Reo anyhow.

It was their families that were the main obstacle. With support from the eldest son, the Furihata parents had reluctantly grown to accept their relationship—but Seijuurou's father was all wrath and hardened eyes. He could still remember how pale Kouki had went, how his whole body trembled visibly, and how his clammy hand tightened around his own to the point it hurt. Seijuurou maintained a distant relationship with his father since then, never mind the years before that; the redhead thought their relationship was already as strained as it could have been after his mother's death, but it only got worse after his loss at his first Winter Cup and even more so after his coming out.

_But that's a story for another time_, Seijuurou thought boredly as he stared into the distance. A black-haired girl stood before them, rambling on about something or another that he had absolutely no interest in. Seijuurou didn't bother to hide the fact that he wasn't listening by having his head turned completely away from her. Kouki on the other hand was simply too nice to tell her to go away, his head nodding along to what she said every once in a while, but he knew better from years of being together that that slight twitch at the corner of his lips was a telltale sign of his irritation.

Seijuurou sighed. It had been a long day for both of them, having had classes from early morning till late afternoon and he still had to write his essay when they got back. He was about to politely tell the girl to bug off, when she asked an unexpected question that caught his interest.

"So are you two going out? Boyfriends? You're always together so I just kind of thought," she continued, one question leaving her lips after another and leaving them no room to reply. From her tone, Seijuurou could tell she was joking around, but he was curious how Kouki would react nonetheless.

"No," Kouki cut in rather harshly, his voice raised a little to break off her rant. "No, we're not boyfriends."

_Ouch. That stung_, Seijuurou found himself thinking. While Kouki was no longer afraid of showing his affections within in the presence of his friends and family, he wasn't too keen on letting acquaintances, like the girl before them, and strangers know. Even so, he hadn't expected Kouki to reveal anything, truth or lie. They had always somehow averted the topic until then, so it was a first for Kouki to have denied their relationship. So vehemently at that.

"Oh, I see!" the girl continued, not missing a beat. "That's a relief!" Seijuurou wanted to ask exactly what was, when his heart was clenching so uncomfortably at that moment.

"We're not boyfriends," Kouki said once more, surprising Seijuurou, "but I never said we're not going out."

At this point, Seijuurou was more confused than anything. A brief look at the girl and he knew she was too. Kouki was contradicting himself. The man in question seemed to sense his confusion and looked towards him, his hand sliding into his own perfectly.

"We're not boyfriends. We're _lovers_," he clarified, lifting their intertwined fingers and allowing the world to see. "Now, if you'd excuse us, we have things to do." And with that, Kouki dragged a bewildered Seijuurou away and left the girl stunned speechless, frozen on her spot.

It wasn't until a while later that Seijuurou snapped out of his stupor, his gaze lingering on their clasped hands for a long moment before lifting to look at the back of his beloved's head, watching those brown tresses sway with each step the brunet took.

"So," he started, trying not to let his curiosity show, "are you not going to explain?"

"There's nothing to explain though?" Kouki replied with his own question, turning around to look at the redhead with mischievousness in his chocolate brown eyes. Seijuurou squeezed the hand in his own in reply before levelling Kouki with an unimpressed look.

"Okay, okay!" Seijuurou couldn't help a small smile at that point. Really, Kouki simply couldn't keep up a fight for long. "She's interested in you." At his lover's deadpan expression, the brunet quickly added, "I didn't like it!"

"So you revealed our relationship."

It wasn't even a question, but Kouki nodded nonetheless, fidgeting under that unnerving stare all the while. Seijuurou was by no means upset, but a jealous Kouki was simply too adorable to resist.

"And that contradiction?" asked Seijuurou, suddenly recalling his confusion.

"Oh," Kouki breathed, a cheeky smile stretching across his face. "Don't you think 'lovers' sound better?"

A raised eyebrow. "How so?"

"Mm... I'm not really sure how to say it, but..." With his free hand, Kouki tapped on his chin with his index finger. "'Boyfriend' feels like something... something like a crush, a puppy love? Like a relationship between high school students? A relationship that could end at any time before they find someone new? 'Lover' sounds more official, something _stronger _and_ unbreakable_, more serious I suppose? It feels like a term you'd use to call the person you want to spend the rest of your life with."

He broke off in a shaky laugh immediately afterwards, his index finger moving to his cheek instead to scratch at it nervously. "Sorry, I can't really explain it properly."

But it was more than enough for Seijuurou. He understood—understood and felt Kouki's love filling him to the brim and more, replacing that painful ache from before with overwhelming happiness. He squeezed the brunet's hand again, holding it firmly. He didn't want to ever let this hand go.

"I love you, Kouki," Seijuurou said in all seriousness.

Kouki blinked at the sudden change. "I know," he laughed, "I love you too."

They've come a long way.

* * *

**/END.**

* * *

2nd March 2015


	8. wounds

**disclaimer:** i don't own _kuroko no basuke_, nor any of the characters used in this work.

* * *

**wounds;  
**akashi and furihata are roommates who patch up each other's injuries after battles, without knowing the other is their nemesis.

* * *

The soft click of the door opening alerted Furihata to his roommate's return. He looked up from his task to see the redhead staring at him unimpressed.

"You're covered in bruises," Akashi bluntly stated. He hadn't voiced it, but Furihata knew the other was waiting for his explanation.

"You know me, how clumsy I am..." He trailed off with a nervous chuckle. "You're awfully late today."

Akashi chanced a glance at the clock hanging on the adjacent wall. It read half past eleven into the night. "Yes... I had some matters to attend to." He couldn't exactly tell his roommate that he was busy discussing the events that transpired just earlier and was thinking up ways to outwit the superheroes next time, could he?

Furihata nodded but didn't pry, instead turning back to his original task of patching himself up. Akashi watched him struggle to place a band-aid on a blind spot on his back before approaching him and offering to do it. The brunet handed the item without fuss, muttering a small 'thanks' under his breath as Akashi helped with his other injuries too.

Running the pad of his index finger along a shallow but long cut on Furihata's back, Akashi couldn't fight back the frown that marred his face. "How exactly did this happen again?"

Coughing into his fist, Furihata said with a tinge of embarrassment, "I fell down the stairs." Akashi stared at him disbelievingly. Furihata didn't blame him, even that statement sounded like a lie to his ears. The bruises that blemished his tanned skin were understandable, but it was impossible to receive so many injuries, especially the abundance of cuts that stretched along the expanse of his back and arms, even a few smaller ones on his face, from just a fall down the stairs. However, it wasn't like he could tell Akashi that he was fighting the resident group of villains, Rakuzan, and sustained injuries from protecting a young girl from falling debris and rubble though.

Thankfully, Akashi didn't comment on it. "Well, you always were clumsy." Furihata laughed at that, remembering the many times Akashi had helped patch him up in the past. It wasn't his first time returning to their shared apartment with injuries as severe as this time's; a superhero's duty was full of dangers and risks, after all, and Furihata usually came home injured after a mission more often than not. Funnily, on such days, at times Akashi would return home from work or university with injuries too, albeit not as severe as his own, and they'd take turns fixing each other up.

Speaking of... Furihata grabbed onto Akashi's wrist as the latter was retracting it after placing a band-aid on a scratch on his face, rolling his sleeve up to reveal white bandage wrapped around his forearm and further down to his wrist. Furihata frowned. "How did you get this?"

Akashi paused. He hadn't thought the other would notice, though he shouldn't have been surprised as his roommate occasionally showed exceptionally keen observational skills. "I sprained it as I caught an elderly lady from falling down the stairs." He'd actually gotten it from a clash with the superhero _Tiger_ from Seirin though.

"Oh... Is she okay?" Akashi was never more thankful for how gullible the brunet was.

"Of course." _Because I saved her_ went unsaid, nevermind the fact that the aforementioned old lady was non-existent in the first place.

Furihata hummed in reply, a tender smile on his lips. Probably relieved the old lady was safe and unharmed, Akashi thought, his heterochromatic eyes softening at the other's kind nature. His musings were cut short as Furihata began peeling off his layers of clothing, however. Akashi started, his hands coming up to Furihata's chest and gently pushing him away. "_What are you doing, Kouki?_"

A laugh escaped Furihata's lips at the question; Akashi sounded so scandalised. "I'm just checking if you have other injuries."

The redhead seemed to calm slightly at that. "I'm fine."

"So you say, but I need to be certain!" He resumed tugging on Akashi's clothes, the latter not putting up much of a fight in resistance despite his protests. "You're always hiding your worries and injuries, so I wouldn't be surprised if you are this time too!"

Akashi sighed in exasperation. Once Furihata was as determined as he currently was, there was no stopping him.

* * *

**/END.**

* * *

16th April 2015


	9. sacred

**disclaimer:** i don't own _kuroko no basuke_, nor any of the characters used in this work.

written for akafuri drabble weekend with many others in the akafuri chatroom.

* * *

**sacred;  
**in which kouki gets lost at an abandoned shrine and meets the most fascinating person.

* * *

At seven years old, Kouki meets the most beautiful person he's ever seen. With long, flowing scarlet hair and ruby and garnet jewels for eyes, Kouki is instantly taken in by the child cloaked in a white kimono, peonies decorating the lower corner of the robe.

"Hello," the beauty before him greets. Kouki stutters a greeting in return, his face heating up as he fidgets under the other's scrutiny. "Why are you here?"

He fiddles for the answer, but fails to speak up. It is his third try when he finally manages. "I-I think I'm l-lost..."

"You think?" the other repeats, mild amusement clear in his voice.

Shaking his head, he says in a more confident but resigned tone, "I'm lost."

The redhead smiles — and Kouki thinks they have the most gorgeous smile — before directing him with instructions on how to return home. It is only later, half way down the hundred steps that Kouki wonders how the stranger knew where he lived. He turns back, intent on voicing his confusion, but the other is no longer there.

When he returns home, Kouki tells his mother all about the gorgeous child he met at the abandoned shrine. He expects his mother to smile in that indulgent way she always does when he rambles about the happenings of his day. Instead, concern and fear overwhelms her as she clutches onto Kouki's upper arms, demanding him never to set foot near there again. "Children have gotten lost there and have never returned," she says, "stolen away by _that child_."

Kouki promises, but can't help thinking it is impossible for someone as beautiful and kind as that child to do such a thing.

Which is why, three weeks after the incident, after having been unable to forget those attractive jewels, Kouki dashes up the hundred steps leading to the abandoned shrine. He halts at the red gates, hands on his knees as he sucks in breath after breath, only startling when a voice greets him, his head snapping up to the source immediately.

"Hello again," the redhead beauty greets once more.

In reply, Kouki says, "You cut your hair." Gone were the long red locks, their hair only reaching just above their chin. What a shame, Kouki thinks, he was quite fond of the other's long hair, but he supposes it was worth it to see that red mane slightly sticking out in various directions. It doesn't make the other any less gorgeous, however; in fact, the other still looks breath-taking and Kouki is enraptured, his eyes unable to leave the other.

The redhead doesn't deem his statement with a reply, instead they say, "I am Akashi, by the name of Seijuurou." Kouki idly thinks that's a strange way to introduce oneself. "What is yours?"

"Kouki," he answers, "Furihata Kouki."

"And why are you here again, Kouki?"

He gulps, takes a deep breath, before, "I wanted to see you."

A flicker of _something_ flashes across those heterochomatic eyes, but Kouki is unable to determine what it was.

"I see. I am happy to hear that, Kouki." The brunet beams, glad that he had somehow made the other _happy_. "Would you like to play with me?" Seijuurou asks, extending a hand to the other in offering.

Kouki accepts it all too readily. "Yes!"

Seijuurou gives a soft smile in reply but, unbeknownst to the brunet, their eyes glint with maliciousness.

It always is easier when they come at their own accord.

* * *

**/END.**

* * *

21st April 2015


	10. vein

**disclaimer:** i don't own _kuroko no basuke_, nor any of the characters used in this work.

written for akafuri drabble weekend.

* * *

**vein;  
**rather than the pinky, it'd make more sense if the red string of fate was tied to the ring finger.

* * *

Akashi looked up from the book he was reading when his free hand was snatched off his lap. Furihata was stroking up and down the length of each finger, the content airing on television long forgotten. He seemed almost fascinated by Akashi's hand, his eyes not straying from it as he continued to feel the expanse of his palm - and Akashi let him, enthralled by the wonder glazing those warm hazel orbs.

Finally, Furihata spoke up, "Why do you think the red string of fate is always attached to the pinky?"

He gave a brief glance at the television; a romance drama was currently airing. Akashi wouldn't have been surprised if it were the cause for his lover's sudden interest.

"It is a Japanese legend, Kouki."

The corners of Furihata's lips tugged down slightly, apparently not satisfied with the answer. "Well... yeah, but why the pinky?"

Akashi resisted a sigh. "It is a legend, Kouki. You don't question it."

"You don't believe in it, do you?" Furihata asked, a brow raised. Akashi narrowed his eyes in reply, deeming his answer obvious. Of course he didn't believe in legends and the sorts. Everything he did, he did of his own will and efforts - and that in itself should have amounted to something. "Then, you don't think us fated?"

Pausing, Akashi gave it some thought. "Perhaps not." He observed the face of his beloved carefully, ascertaining that Furihata did not feel hurt by his revelation. His concern was uncalled for, however, as the brunet merely gave a small, encouraging smile. With ease, he continued, "Or perhaps we are. However, as we will never be able to know for certain of this..."

"You do not believe," Furihata finished in his stead. Akashi nodded.

"Yes, but it does not change the fact I chose _you_, Kouki." He flipped his hand around to intertwine with Furihata's, their fingers easily, perfectly, falling in place together like a key fitting a lock.

"And I, you," Furihata replied, bringing up their linked hands to kiss each of Akashi's knuckles before moving downwards from the back of his hand to his wrist. Each contact sent jolts of pleasure up Akashi's spine and he fought to remain composed, but from the small smirk he felt against his wrist he was certain Furihata caught on immediately.

To his relief (or frustration, he couldn't quite decide), Furihata released his hand, inching towards something on his lap instead. Akashi peered down to see his lover removing his red ribbon, a make-shift bookmark, from between the pages and setting his book on the low-table before them.

Reaching out for Akashi's hand again, Furihata looped one end of the ribbon around his ring finger. "You see, rather than the pinky, I think it'd make more sense if the red string of fate was tied to the ring finger." Akashi hummed in response, prompting his lover to continue. "Do you know why the wedding ring goes on the fourth finger, Sei?"

"_Vena amoris_," he replied confidently, the Latin rolling off his tongue fluently with no difficulty. "The vein in the fourth finger is directly connected to the heart and is thus recognised as the vein of love."

"Yes, that's correct," Furihata confirmed as he knotted the ribbon around Akashi's left ring finger. "Then, as such, would it not be better for the red string of fate to be tied together by the ring fingers?"

His lover was so corny, Akashi found himself thinking with growing frequency the longer they were together. "Kouki, the existence of vena amoris was not known until much later, after the establishment of the legend."

Furihata pouted, raising his left hand in front of Akashi. "Tie the other end?"

Akashi rolled his eyes, but did not refrain from doing as requested, picking up the ribbon and gently binding it to his lover's ring finger. Flexing his fingers, Furihata stared at the ribbon attached to him, following the length of red connecting him to his beloved. Face softening, he grasped onto Akashi's left hand with his own. This simple accessory was _their_ red string of fate.

He hadn't realised he had said that out loud until Akashi snorted, raising his free hand to his mouth to muffle the imminent laughter. If possible, instead of feeling offended, Furihata's expression merely softened further. No matter how many times he saw it, Akashi's smiling face, especially his laughter, pulled persistently at his heartstrings with no intentions of ever stopping.

"It's also like wedding rings," he teased, the words causing Akashi to pause as he registered them.

"...Are you proposing, Kouki?"

"Perhaps," Furihata said, his eyes twinkling with mirth. There was a long period of silence as Akashi gazed into warm, hazel orbs. His lover had possibly said it on a whim, but the affection in those eyes told no lie.

Akashi sighed, leaned back on the armrest and, with their intertwined hands, pulled Furihata down with him. "You lovable fool."

And then he reached up, closing the distance between them and silencing Furihata's soft chuckle with his lips.

* * *

**/END.**

* * *

3rd May 2015


	11. farewell

**disclaimer:** i don't own _kuroko no basuke_, nor any of the characters used in this work.

written for akafuri drabble weekend.

* * *

**farewell;  
**kouki's coughing out blood – and akashi doesn't know what to do.

* * *

It is Akashi's first task and he's already befuddled.

"Hello," the brunet boy before him speaks, white covers wrapped comfortably around him not unlike a mother's gentle embrace. His lids are closed, but his head is faced towards Akashi's direction.

Akashi purses his lips. "You can see me?" he demands more than asks.

Moments pass by without an answer from the boy. A spark of irritation lights up in him and he very nearly repeats his question in annoyance, but the brunet beats him to it. Tilting his head as he continues to stare at Akashi from behind closed eyelids, the child furrows his brows as he asks softly, "Can you not speak...?"

It is Akashi's first task and he's beyond befuddled.

"Are you not only blind but deaf too?" Akashi asks, more than a little confused. He does not recall the boy being unable to hear in the reports he received before coming here. Perhaps the higher ups had missed out on some information, however unlikely that was? Akashi has certainly never heard of such a case happening before though.

His question goes unanswered once again.

"It's okay if you can't speak. I'm the same; I can't see," the brunet says with a small smile. (Akashi doesn't understand how the other can smile like that – like being blind is _fine_, when it's not.)

Before Akashi can get another word in, he is interrupted by the opening of the door. At the creak, the brunet immediately turns towards the sound. Akashi, too, follows his line of sight towards an older brunette woman dressed in a white blouse under a navy blue blazer, a rose pink pencil skirt wrapped snugly around her waist and finished with navy heels.

"Kouki," the newcomer says, overwhelming warmth oozing out from her tone.

The boy—Kouki—brightens up at her voice. "Mama!"

So he's not deaf after all. How strange, Akashi thinks.

.

.

.

It is twenty four days after their first meeting and Akashi is not any less confused than he was before.

If there is one thing he's come to understand, it is that he is, indeed, invisible to the human eye. Kouki had introduced his mother to him, directing her gaze towards his direction and telling her to meet his "friend". Puzzled was an understatement; the woman had narrowed her hazel irises at him but all she could see was empty space, before turning back to her son and going along with his antics, probably assuming Akashi was simply an imaginary friend.

Another conclusion he's come to is: Kouki has a very keen sense. No human should have been able to see nor hear of his existence, yet the boy had sensed his presence. Akashi has no method of confirming the true reasoning for this, but he assumes Kouki's exceptional senses may have resulted due to his disability, which forced him to become more aware of his surroundings.

Sitting on the window sill, Akashi listens to Kouki's gentle hums, his shoulders relaxing at the soft sound without his awareness, while staring out into the gardens. Many people in long gowns sat at various places in the garden, family members or possibly friends surrounding them. Akashi almost pities them, their eyes all appearing lifeless, but refrains. He's long since abandoned his emotions, ever since he first took up his post.

"Done!"

The cheerful exclamation draws Akashi's attention away from the gardens, red and amber instead directing towards to the boy once again embraced by his white duvet. A low table is sat above Kouki's outstretched legs on the bed, colourful squared paper scattered around atop the wood. In Kouki's tiny hands is a crinkled sakura-patterned paper crane. After two weeks of practising he finally managed to fold it properly, albeit not so beautifully, Akashi realises. Somehow, a small sense of pride blossoms inside his chest at the sight.

Kouki lets out a giggle as he juggles the paper crane from hand to hand before gently cupping it in both and bringing it up to his chest, his smile genuinely happy and proud. After a moment of fiddling with the crane again, Kouki directs his gaze to Akashi. (It always surprises him how keen Kouki is, always aware _exactly_ where he is.)

"For you," Kouki says, his arms outstretched towards Akashi with the crane in his chubby, little hands.

Akashi makes no move to take it. (He's not certain he'd even be able to touch it.)

When Kouki finally realises Akashi isn't going to take it, he slowly lowers his arms and turns away with a saddened smile. For some inexplicable reason, Akashi feels a sharp pang in his chest.

Kouki doesn't look at Akashi for the rest of the day.

.

.

.

When Kouki wakes up the next morning, reaching out to the nightstand to his side, he is met with surprise and delight when he feels nothing.

.

.

.

(Ah, Akashi discovers, so he _can_ touch it after all. Picking up the crane from the slumbering brunet's nightstand, he places it inside his black robe with a gentleness he's never known before.)

.

.

.

Kouki's coughing out blood – and Akashi doesn't know what to do.

He jumps up from the window sill he was perched on, his permanent seat at some point over the duration of visits to Kouki, feet rushing to the brunet's side but hand freezing mid-air a few inches from the child.

He's known all along that Kouki's time is limited, yet Akashi had somehow gotten attached to him. The pain is excruciating and all Akashi can do is step aside as the men and women in white filters in, ordering for this and that equipment to be used.

Two hours later and Kouki is calm again, the oxygen mask not hindering his tiny almost non-existent smile. Akashi can't tear his eyes away from how pained it looks. He doesn't say anything for the rest of the day, not even when Kouki finally falls asleep. (But then, Kouki wouldn't be able to hear his desperate pleas anyway.)

.

.

.

It is two hundred and thirty six days since their first meeting when _the day_ comes.

Kouki's mother has just rushed out, shouting for help. Akashi watches with a numbness he can't explain as Kouki clutches at his chest, his face scrunched up and body curling in at the pain. Despite that, his lids slide open to stare at Akashi, or more precisely where he is, revealing a dull brown; Akashi imagines how bright they could have been had Kouki not been blind, and finds himself nearly choking over how beautiful they possibly used to be. With great difficulty, Kouki utters out through coughs and blood, "Th...ank... you..." before the nurses and doctors barge in, reeling the boy to the emergency room with great urgency, Kouki's mother following behind in hurried steps.

Akashi feels as if a part of him had been forcefully taken away.

.

.

.

"Hello," Kouki says, his hazel eyes bright and sparkling like Akashi imagined them to be, stealing his breath away. "It's nice to finally see what you look like."

Akashi swallows thickly, not ready for the upcoming event.

Tilting his head to the side, much like he had done at their first meeting, Kouki asks, "Won't you let me hear your voice?"

Releasing a shuddering breath, Akashi speaks, "I am Akashi Seijuurou, and I will be taking your soul."

Kouki doesn't even blink at the news, merely smiling. "You have a lovely voice, just like I imagined."

Akashi tries to smile but it comes out more as a grimace. Crouching down, he reaches out towards Kouki, hands cupping the child's soft cheeks. "Farewell, Kouki."

The smile never leaves his face as Akashi leans forward and places his forehead on his own, a white light coming out from Kouki's body and expanding before enveloping them both.

* * *

**/END.**

* * *

30th May 2015


End file.
